A Weekly Tradition
by too many stars to count
Summary: When Dick tells Bruce he's starting to miss the family dinners he's grown up with how will Bruce and Alfred react? Written for the batfic contest theme of Family Dinners. Please read and review!


**A/N:** I wrote this story for a contest at the lj community bat_fic contest. It ended up winning second. This was my first dive into Batman fanfiction and I hope you guys like it. Please tell me what you think! Also for anyone wondering where chapter 9 of **The Ways We Hurt** is (I'd probably be wondering myself) I just started typing everyhitng I have written in the story's notebook onto my computer and will hopefully have it up within a week. Keep in mind though please, it is mid-terms this week, so I may fall a bit behind. On with the story!

**A Weekly Tradition**

Dick missed family dinners. Even when they were touring with the circus Dick's mom would make dinner every night and the three Graysons would sit down together in their trailer. Dinner used to be Dick's favorite time of day.

He'd been a little shocked when he moved in with Bruce and Alfred to find they _didn't_ eat dinner together, but he also hadn't cared. The pain of loosing his family had been too fresh. Family dinners would only have served as a painful reminded of what he had lost.

Now though it'd been five months since Dick had moved in and dinner was starting to feel kind of well – lonely. He missed the conversation and laughter. Not that he didn't see Bruce outside of the Cave, and Alfred was always around, but clearly neither man know what they were missing.

As Robin, Dick knew better than maybe anyone just how strapped Bruce was for time, but he was pretty sure they could make time for just _one_ family dinner. Now he just needed to convince Bruce.

So one cool, clear fall afternoon Dick went looking for Bruce. He found him sitting in the library trying to get a bit of reading done before they both had to go get ready for patrol later that night.

Dick slid into the chair next to Bruce picking his copy of _The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe_ up off the table but not opening it. Bruce paused in his reading, slowly lowering his book, and looked at his adoptive son. "Are you feeling okay Dick?" Bruce asked remembering the boy's recent bout with the stomach flu. "Maybe you should stay home with Alfred tonight and get some rest. I don't want you making yourself sick."

"No!" Dick nearly shouted. "I'm fine Bruce. Honest. You can even feel my forehead if you want!" Bruce laid a hand across his son's cool forehead.

"Is something wrong then?" He asked worried.

"No." Dick looked down. "I just wanted to ask you a question." Bruce sat silently waiting for him to continue. "Do – do you think we could maybe have a family dinner? I know we're really busy." He rushed on trying to stop any objections before they could be voiced. "But I sat down and figured it out. I think we could fit dinner in one night this week. I didn't want to ask Alfred before you said it was okay but I'm sure he wouldn't mind cooking a big dinner." Dick stopped obviously out of reasons and looked up hopefully.

Bruce sat quietly for a minute in his chair berating himself. He hadn't had a family dinner in almost 20 years. It had never occurred him Dick might be used to eating with a family.

"I think we could fit a dinner in." Bruce said nodding is head. "I'll go talk to Alfred about it right now." He marked his place in his book and stood up stretching. "Why don't you read a chapter or two of your book and then head down to the Cave?" Dick nodded happily already pursuing the book on his lap. "Have you had dinner?" Bruce asked realizing that he was having a hard time keeping track of his young ward's eating habits. But the youth nodded too engrossed in his book to answer verbally.

Surprisingly Bruce found Alfred in the Cave gathering one of Dick's uniforms off of a table. "Alfred?" Bruce asked surprised.

"Who Master Bruce," Alfred began sounding slightly amused. "Do you gather has been mending Master Richard's garments?"

"Haha Alfred." Bruce said dryly. "You know what I mean, you're never down here during the day. You usually only come down when we get home."

"Yes well, I had _other_ things to tend to last night." Alfred responded glaring at the stitches in Bruce's left arm.

Bruce for his part shifted around uneasily amazed that the 60-year-old man retained the ability to make him feel like a poorly behaved 5-year-old. "Dick just came to talk to me." He said changing the subject.

"Oh?" Alfred stopped looking for tears on the uniform to look at the younger man.

"He wanted to know if we could have a family dinner sometime this week. I told him I'd come talk to you about it." Bruce was looking away from Alfred determinedly.

"I think it's a wonderful idea Master Bruce. Heaven knows I've been trying to get you to sit down at the table for a meal ever since – for years I mean." Alfred knew mentioning Bruce's parents was dangerous.

"I figured you'd agree." Bruce said nodding but still looking at the floor.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred asked gently.

"He's so much stronger than I am Alfred. After my parents – I never thought I'd be able to sit through another family dinner. Less than six months after his parents are murdered he's _asking_ for them."

Alfred put a comforting hand on Bruce's shoulder and was forcibly reminded of doing the same thing on that terrible night years ago when he had arrived at the police station to take a much younger Bruce home. "We all handle death differently Master Wayne. Dick wants people to be around him in his time of pain where you are more comfortable thinking things through on your own. He also immediately found himself enveloped in a new family when you had to return to your same house where everything in your life was the same yet extremely different. Dick found a new home; you came back to a sick parody of what had once been home. You aren't weak, sir. Don't ever think that."

"Am I doing a good job of taking care of him though, Alfred? It never even occurred to me that he might want something like family dinners. What if I'm messing _everything_ up?"

Now Alfred placed both hands on the shoulders of the man he was always a little shocked to find at his own eye level. "Stop that right now." He said sternly. "You're doing a wonderful job taking care of Master Richard. I'd also like to remind you that you're not alone in this. Do you really think I'd let you do something that wasn't in the boy's best interest? Of course not.

"You've better care of him than anyone else could because you two share a rare, if tragic, bond. There's no where else he'd rather be and I won't let you drive yourself crazy thinking as much." He pulled the younger man into a rare hug quietly saying, "I'm more proud of you than I could ever say Bruce." He knew his surrogate son would recognize how much he meant the compliment if he was willing to give up his English reserve, however temporarily.

Releasing him he returned to his normal strict manners continuing as if nothing had passed, "Now Master Bruce we will have our family dinner Thursday night at 6 O'clock." Thursday was the "slow" night for crime in Gotham. "I'll take care of everything just make sure you're done training by 5:30."

"Of course." Bruce turned to leave but stopped suddenly. "Thank you Alfred, for everything."

The butler's eyes softened. "There's no other way I'd have preferred to spend my life, sir," Without another word Alfred turned back to the uniform in his hands giving Bruce a chance to walk away gruff but happy.

Thursday came incredibly quickly for Bruce while the week seemed to drag on forever to Dick who had literally jumped with joy when Bruce told him they would indeed be having a family dinner.

"Jump kick! Dodge left! Now right! Running flip followed by a uppercut!" Bruce shouted one command after another as Dick moved in a blur around the Batcave. "Stop!" He shouted and Dick landed gently in front of him. He was panting but looked happy, pleased with the workout he'd just completed. "Good job, Dick." Bruce smiled down at Dick ruffling his hair.

"It's 5:20 though. We need to head upstairs, get in the shower, and change for dinner. Be in the dining room by 6 okay?" Dick nodded happily. "Go on upstairs. I've got to check something in the database first."

"I'll wait." Dick said stubbornly extremely aware that if he left Bruce down here by himself he'd never come up on his own and a furious Alfred would have to come looking for him.

Bruce hesitated, glancing at the computer. "I'll do it later tonight before patrol." Dick smiled happily and took the stairs up to the study two at a time. Shaking his head Bruce followed at a slower pace.

Dinner turned out to be Alfred's famous lasagna, something Bruce couldn't remember him making since he'd return to Gotham 6 years ago. There was also steaming bowls of scalloped potatoes and corn. For desert he made 7-layer chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream. Bruce thought Dick's eyes would fall out of his head at the very sight of it all.

The food didn't surprise Bruce. He knew Alfred had probably been itching to make a huge meal for years and the old butler could cook better than anyone else Bruce knew.

What surprised him was how much he enjoyed the meal. Years of solitary meals eaten quickly and for sustenance, not enjoyment, had left him unprepared for family dinners. Dinners with his own parents were fuzzy memories after being purposely ignored for so long.

The best part of the meal though was Dick. Bruce kept up with what Dick was doing outside of the Cave of course, but hearing Dick describe it was so much better. Watching the young boy recount various adventures was heartwarming in a way Bruce couldn't easily describe. Seeing Alfred relax again when he was always so tense thanks to Bruce's, and now Dick's, nighttime excursions.

Dick was so happy and vibrant in a way Bruce hadn't seen before. He soaked up the attentions of the two men and came alive at the table. Dick had always seemed happy, and he was, but it wasn't until that night that Bruce realized how much happier they could make him.

Too soon the meal ended and it was time to get ready for patrol. Alfred, after clearing the table with Dick's enthusiastic help, had produced a freshly laundered and mended uniform for Dick and a clean cowl for Bruce. Dick thanked Alfred and was about to head down to the Cave when Bruce stopped him.

"What would you two think," A quick glance at Alfred assured him the older man knew what he was doing and approved. "Of making Thursday's our family dinner night?" Dick moved so fast that Bruce didn't see where he'd gone until the younger boy had his arms firmly around his waist and was shouting happily.

"Seriously Bruce? We can have family dinners every _week_?" When Bruce nodded laughing Dick let him go, hugged Alfred, did a running cartwheel across the room (which Bruce couldn't help but admire the precision of) and ran to the study (and the Cave) shouting incoherently.

"Very proud, sir," Alfred said smiling. But all Bruce could think was that Alfred should be proud of Dick, if anyone. He'd brought family dinners back to the mansion.


End file.
